


but not memory

by Mscrwth



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Character Death, Female Friendship, New Caprica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mscrwth/pseuds/Mscrwth
Summary: Written for a galpalficathon, prompt: Roslin and Caprica Six / "are you kidding me?"; guilt
Relationships: Laura Roslin/Caprica Six
Kudos: 2





	but not memory

The first time Six sees Laura Roslin, she is unimpressed.

She thinks she would never even have given the woman a second look were it not for the fact that she knows her to be a vital part of what is to come. In fact, she's made a point of being here today, just so she can get a glimpse of the future dying leader.

The woman sitting beside the fountain is nothing like what Six imagined. She’s older for one thing. Six heard rumors of a liaison between Richard Adar and his Secretary of Education and would have figured he would be one to go for the younger ones, the types more like her own model. She’s not unattractive though, Six judges, good legs, nice figure overall, Six doesn’t care for the hair but a stunning pair of cheekbones makes up for it. Good breeding all in all but a little too nice looking, too refined.

Six figures that she’ll never last. Leoben likes his prophecies and he’s foretold Laura Roslin will become the dying leader. Upon seeing her with her own eyes, Six believes that if she does, she may carry humanity for a while but ultimately, she will fail and the human race will come to an end. Six turns her attention back to Gaius, secure in the knowledge that their plan will certainly succeed.

The second time she sees Roslin, the former President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, wears her teacher persona like a cloak. She is standing outside the school tent, waving goodbye to her pupils.

It’s a balmy day on New Caprica, cloudy, but warmer than she's ever experienced it. Still, Six is bundled in a heavy coat, the hood pulled up to obscure her telltale platinum hair. It is unsafe these days for one of them to be walking the streets of New Caprica alone. Things have gone from bad to worse ever since Six and her sisters and brothers first set foot on this blasted rock. They are divided amongst themselves where once they’d been united in their purpose, the Colonists are taking potshots at them and Six can tell they are gearing up for a full scale rebellion. Worse still, when she finally reunited with Gaius, Six found him to be a ghost of his former self. He used to be funny, sexy, brilliant; all he talks about now is how he never should have cheated Laura Roslin out of the Presidency, never should have made empty promises to the people of the fleet and lured them away from her.

When the last of the children have scampered off, Roslin turns to go back inside the tent and Six starts to leave, unsure why she came here in the first place. She can’t see whatever it is that Gaius sees when he speaks of this woman, his former adversary. Even though she certainly looks tougher and more capable than the somewhat demure woman she saw on Caprica that day, she’s just one woman. She’s heard some pretty fantastic stories, about Roslin's capacity for deception, about her ruthless streak, from Leoben and Cavil, but even if they are true, Roslin is only a schoolteacher now, nothing to be afraid of.

Six throws a last look over her shoulder, having convinced herself that Roslin no longer poses any threat, and her breath catches in her throat. The sun has slid out from behind a cloud, blinding Roslin and as the former President turns around and squints and smiles up into the golden warmth of the sunlight. Six can't help but feel it's a sign, God is telling her to pay attention and it’s like a chasm opening at her feet, a whirlwind whipping around her, it leaves her breathless, almost forces her to her knees. In that moment, Six thinks she almost knows her, almost recognizes her for what she is; the auburn mane of her hair, lit up like fire as the sun glints off of it, the geometry of her face, the luminous green of her eyes.

The moment is broken as a Centurion clanks by. Six takes a deep breath to steady herself, shakes her head in denial. She catches the look of barely controlled rage on Roslin’s face as she watches the Centurion pass, the force of it palpable, the sentiment behind it so very human, and an involuntary shudder quakes through her.

#

The next time Six sees Roslin, is through a one way mirror, set in the wall of a cell, deep in the bowels of the New Caprica Detention Center. The former President is clad in a prison jumpsuit, huddled against the wall. Her bare feet are pale in the stark light filtering from above. She looks cold and somehow smaller without her glasses.

In an effort to quell the Resistance, they’ve all decided Roslin be arrested and made an example of. Six forces herself to watch as Doral enters Roslin's cell and goes about the task with zeal. Even if there's no direct evidence linking Roslin with the insurgents, it's plain for all to see she's one of the figureheads. The people look to her for guidance, openly call her Madam President. It cannot be tolerated. During her Presidency, Roslin, along with Admiral Adama, to be sure, successfully thwarted their efforts to annihilate the human race, and now, stripped of all power, she is still the greatest force Six and her brethren have to reckon with.

It’s galling.

Still, she’s frail and human and Six knows that humans bruise easily, break easily.

When Doral steps back from his handiwork and tells Roslin to recant her ways, give up the insurgency, save herself, Six fully expects the former President to comply. Instead, Roslin slowly, painfully climbs to her feet and shakes her head in emphatic denial. She sways where she’s standing, can hardly hold herself upright, but there's a strength and dignity in her demeanor that Six can't help but admire.

Doral flies into a rage at Roslin's firm refusal and Six is too late to keep him from kicking her back to the ground but in time at least to prevent him from doing even more harm. She instead tells him to dump her somewhere public, where as many people as possible will see what’s become of their precious former President and realize what will happen if they continue their misguided insurgency. It's only logical to make Roslin into an example, she is, after all, the person the people are rallying around. Still, as she looks down at Roslin's unconscious face, Six feels an odd kind of shame.

When they finally flee the planet in defeat, it’s this feeling she keeps coming back to.

#

The first time Six actually meets Laura Roslin, their positions are reversed. This time, Six is the captive, Roslin the one in control. The President of the Twelve Colonies is an imposing woman, a towering presence, perhaps even more so because Six has seen her in her various other incarnations.

They speak of Gaius, Six tells her they should put him on trial and she’ll help, just to see Roslin’s reaction. The President gives nothing away and Six feels somehow elated. She was never sure why she came here with Sharon, but here, in this cell, with this woman, she feels she finally understands at least part of it. Laura Roslin is an enigma and Six has always liked to solve puzzles.

“It still bothers you, doesn’t it?” she says as Roslin starts to leave. She speaks on impulse, wanting to see Roslin rattled, she’s not sure why, and immediately regrets it as the full force of Roslin’s glare comes to rest on her.

“What do you mean?” Roslin’s voice is as sharp and potentially lethal as her glare.

“Your hip. Doral wrecked it, and now, every time you get tired, or cold, or when you’ve been on your feet for too long, it aches.”

Roslin narrows her eyes. “How do you know that? How do you know it was Doral, I never told anyone that.”

“I was there, we all decided to set an example, and that that example should be you, I watched him punish you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Roslin’s expression is livid. “Why would you even tell me that?”

Six cringes under her fury but doesn’t back down. “Because I could have stopped him, because I should have stopped him.”

“And now what, you feel guilty?” Her green eyes shoot daggers at her and Six can almost physically feel the sting.

“Yes.”

“For this?” Roslin gestures at her hip, raises an enquiring eyebrow

Six nods, nonplussed.

“And you’re the same model I saw with Baltar, just prior to the attacks? In fact, I’d go as far as to say you’re the exact same copy, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Six says and wonders how Roslin knows it was her. She remembers that day by the fountain, remembers Roslin looking her way but had not counted on Roslin being able to single her out from amongst all the other Six models who mostly look exactly like her.

“Then I’d say guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it, wouldn’t you agree?” Like a switch has been flicked, anger turns to grief and Roslin turns away, stalks from her cell,

“No, it doesn’t.” Six whispers after her and means it.

#

The second time Six meets Roslin, Sharon is there too and none of them quite knows what to make of the situation. They’re sharing dreams, or visions, or maybe they’re projecting, though Six has no idea how it can be with the human woman in the mix. She sees in Roslin a frantic need to understand what’s happening, a desperation underneath that goes deeper than anything Six has ever felt from any human, ever. Outwardly, the president is as cool and imposing as before but Six isn’t fooled. She wonders how it is that she can now so easily look beyond the presidential armor to the woman underneath, maybe she’s becoming more and more human herself, while Roslin is becoming something else entirely. Then Six sees the bandage on Roslin’s arm and understanding dawns.

The Dying Leader. She remembers how she scoffed at that, how she believed Roslin would never fulfill the prophecy, she believes differently now. If anyone can lead them to the promised land it’s this woman. Wanting to offer her something, she tells her that the first thing that comes to mind, tells her that in the vision she felt the need to protect Hera with her life. Her heart quickens at Roslin’s look of relief.

#

The next time they meet, they are both in Life Station, Six for a check-up, Roslin for a Diloxin treatment. Six hears murmurs come from Roslin’s cubicle and gradually realizes it’s the Admiral and the President, talking in hushed whispers. They sound so incredibly intimate and Six aches to experience what they have. Saul may have gotten her pregnant, but they’ve never been as close as these two people are and Six instinctively knows they never will be.

When the Admiral is called away on an emergency, Six listens as Roslin’s breathing gradually becomes more labored. Based on the snippets she’s heard, she can guess what the President is going through, and when a particularly loud groan escapes Roslin, Six gets up off of the bed and gently sweeps the curtain separating their cubicles aside. Roslin is on her side, her hands pressed to her abdomen, her eyes screwed tightly shut. She’s breathing through her mouth, trying to keep from screaming or cursing or throwing up or possibly all three.

“Madam President?”

Roslin visibly gathers herself, rolls over and as she recognizes Six, her megawatt glare morphs into a surprised stare. It’s a thing to behold and Six can’t help but smile, even if Roslin’s tone is as harsh as her glare had been. “What are you doing here?”

Six decides to ignore the harshness, it’s probably fuelled as much by ire as by the fact that the President looks decidedly green around the gills. “I couldn’t help but notice you were feeling progressively worse.” She says as politely as possible, “I thought perhaps I could help, get you something for the nausea, call the Doc?”

“Thank you, but there’s really nothing for it but to just ride it out.”

“Okay,” Six says and starts to leave but then all the color drains from Roslin’s face and Six is glad of her fast reflexes as she is just able to hand her the basin on her night table, keep back her hair as she vomits up bile. The strands in her hand feel coarse and artificial and Six smiles at the little bit of irony.

When the President finally leans back, eyes closed, breathing shallowly through her mouth, Six hurries to her own cubicle, comes back with a glass of water and a roll of breath mints. Saul had a whole store of them and these are the last, he gave them to her when she came down with morning sickness. She hands the glass to Roslin and she takes it with a familiar air of dignity, takes a tiny sip and washes out her mouth, spits in the basin. Somehow, she manages to do that too with her dignity intact.

Six hold out the breath mints like a peace offering. “Here,” she says, “They help with the nausea. Saul had a whole stash of them, he says he hoarded them because they make the air in his mouth taste better.”

Roslin actually chuckles at that, accepts the breath mints with grace.” Thank you, Caprica,” she says.

“ Six,” she replies, “Just Six, and you’re welcome.”

#

Every other time they meet after that fateful meeting they relax a little more in each other’s company, until one day Six inadvertently calls her Laura, and Laura just smiles in acceptance. She’s there when Six has her first echo, holds her hand as Six sees her baby for the first time. Six in turn is there for Laura during those Diloxin treatments the Admiral can’t attend what with everything there’s to be done about Earth. Laura is still fighting her cancer, fighting it with everything she’s got, all the while trying to hold the fleet together, trying to find some meaning in the devastation they found down on the surface. For her sake, as much as anything else, Six urges her Cylon brethren to accept Laura’s leadership and eventually everyone but D’Anna agrees. She even joins forces with Laura in trying to heal the rift between the Admiral and Saul and between them, they get the two on speaking terms again.

When finally the endless scouting missions across the planet surface yield results in the form of a habitable land mass, Laura spontaneously hugs Six and Six feels a profound sense of acceptance, of belonging, something she realizes only then that she’s been lacking all her life.

#

The last time Six sees Laura Roslin, The Dying Leader, she cradles her broken body in her arms and cries while pandemonium breaks loose all around them. It’s the most profoundly human emotion she’s ever experienced, this grief. She wonders if she will ever fully understand humans at all. Why they keep putting themselves through this time and again, keep reaching out with heart and mind, body and soul, connecting like they do only to have it come to this.

The Admiral lies beside Laura, his features still in death, his hand clutched around Laura’s fingers as if still needing that contact, as if not even death can separate them, and it won’t, Six knows, even as she desperately tries to stem the flow of blood from Laura’s wounds.

Around them, all is chaos. Lee sobs as he cradles his father’s bloody head in his lap, his other hand pressed against the wound over Laura’s heart. A little way off, Kara is pounding the life out of their killer. Saul, Galen, Sam, Sharon and Helo, Duala and Gaeta, all stand around them in a protective circle looking aghast, while Cottle is struggling towards them through the chaos and Laura’s security detail pushes back against the multitudes as they try to catch a glimpse of their fallen leaders.

That they should perish like this, at the moment of what should have been their greatest triumph is an irony too bitter to comprehend. Laura assembled the fleet to tell them of their discovery, tell them that life would go on, that they’d found a place to settle down, and instead was met by death at the hands of one of Baltar’s cultists. Screaming False Prophecies and Only One True God the crazed woman has unwittingly fulfilled the prophecy she so vehemently railed against.

The Dying Leader shall not live to enter the promised land.

Tears stinging behind her eyes, Six gently strokes Laura’s pale face and watches helplessly as her breath hitches in and out of her lungs in agonized gasps and spurts that gradually slow down as her lease on life slips from her grasp.

When she finally realizes, when she truly feels the inevitability of it, experiences the finality of death for the first time, Six cries, a wrenching sob that leaves her breathless. Laura opens her eyes at the sound and her fathomless green gaze comes to rest on Six, the sight of those eyes, aware, feels like a balm to her aching heart, even if the light in them is fading.

“He’s dead,” Laura whispers, so softly Six has to bend low to hear her.

“Yes, I’m so sorry, but you’re going to live, Laura, you’ll be fine.”

“Liar,” she gasps. So Laura, so direct, no beating around the bush.

“Nah,” she smiles through her tears. “You have to hold on, you hear me? We need you,”

Laura reaches up and her weak hand comes to rest on Six’s tear streaked cheek.

“Don’t cry,” she says. “Our work is done. It’s up to you now, all of you together.” Her gaze sweeps the room, finds Kara and Lee, the circle of their friends and comrades, swivels back to Six.

“You’ll do fine.” She smiles that enigmatic smile of hers and then, with a last, soft exhale, the dying leader is no more.

#

The next time Six sees her, Six is on her deathbed, a stupid accident is what will kill her one final time. She’s surrounded by her family. Her own children have long since passed but there are great, great grandchildren and even great, great, great grandchildren. Six has led a long and happy life on earth and still looks much like she always did, but she is weary, so weary.

“It’s time,” she whispers and the youngest of her children’s children strokes her forehead, takes her hand, kisses her cheek. Lara she’s called, after the legendary President of the Twelve Colonies who died so long ago and about whom so many fantastical tales still do the rounds. _Did you know you singlehandedly found the tomb of Athena, drove us from New Caprica, blew up the Hub and still found time to regularly frak the Admiral, beat Kara at triad and drink Saul under the table, Laura?_ Six thinks and laughs a little. Lara kisses her cheek and Six squeezes her hand with what little strength she has left. Her family has been such a blessing to her but still, the way she’s outlived them, outlived everyone she came down to earth with, has left her sore and heartbroken. It’s time, she’s tired. Laura’s last command has been well met. The colony on earth is thriving, human and Cylons have intermingled until there’s no telling where one ends and the other begins anymore. She’s the last of the first settlers and she is weary The people live in peace, have prospered and multiplied upon the earth. It’s time.

As the room about her darkens and her eyesight begins to fade, something moves in the shadows and two people she thought she’d never see again step forwards into the light.

Laura and her Admiral.

They both look as they did in their prime, when they saved humanity from their end, and saved the Cylons too, although they were unaware of it at the time. They are both resplendent, dressed as they were so long ago, they seem to glow with energy and life. Light sparkles and dances in Laura’s auburn hair, drips and swirls from her fingertips, crackles in her skin, eddies around her in complex patterns. The Admiral, in contrast, burns slowly, with a quiet intensity. As in life, he stand beside and a little bit behind her, protective still, his eyes brimming with love, with the simple pleasure of having her next to him. Laura has her hand firmly wrapped in his, with the other she reaches out to Six, her green eyes are luminous, her grin infectious as she takes her hand.

In that instant, in that never-ending moment, when first and last and now and then and forever and always are compressed into a final breath, a fading heartbeat, Six looks upon Laura Roslin’s face and knows gladness


End file.
